Appetizers
by Smackalicious
Summary: Jenny realizes she doesn't really know much about McGee and hopes to change that. Takes place between seasons 3 and 4. Gen. ONESHOT.


**Title: Appetizers  
Pairing: None  
Rating: G  
Genre: Gen  
Cat: Friendship, Humor  
Spoilers: None. Takes place between season 3 & 4.  
Warnings: None.  
Summary: Jenny realizes she doesn't really know much about McGee and hopes to change that.  
Author's Note: Written as a prize for Shelby for correctly guessing my Hangman puzzle. She requested Jenny/McGee/Chinese food, and while I thought of Precious Pup's story The Elf Lord's Mistress when I was writing it, I managed to make it completely different.**

* * *

"Agent McGee."

McGee sat up straight and turned around at the sound of the Director's voice. "Director Shepard," he said, trying to sound confident, but worried his voice sounded more like a teenage boy going through puberty. He frowned slightly and cleared his throat. "Um, what can I do for you?"

Jenny smiled warmly, causing McGee to relax slightly. "I was just up in my office thinking, and since Tony has you working late tonight and _I'm _working late tonight . . ." She shrugged, her lips turning up into a smirk. "I thought we could maybe have a late dinner together."

His face blushed a bright shade of red. "Ma'am?" he asked, unsure of just what she was suggesting.

Jenny laughed. "Relax, McGee. I'm not trying to seduce you."

McGee turned even redder, his cheeks a vibrant magenta color now. "No, uh, of course not, Director. I would never . . ."

"I just realized," Jenny interrupted, raising an eyebrow at him to signal he be quiet, "that I don't really know a lot about you, and since you're on the Major Case Response Team, it might be nice to _get _to know you." She gave him a pointed look. "Would you object to that?"

McGee shook his head violently. "No, uh, no, ma'am. That sounds, uh, that sounds fine. I know everyone else pretty well already. Obviously. Because I work with them. Or under them. Not that I don't work under you."

"McGee?" Jenny asked, her eyes wide in amusement and disbelief.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, his own eyes equally as wide.

"I'm really not that scary of a person," she said, smiling. "You can ask Tony or Ziva. They'll back me up."

McGee smiled nervously. "No, I believe you, ma'am."

Jenny shook her head, but chose not to say anything about his hesitance. "Shall we?"

"Oh, we're eating in your office," he said, the worry lines on his forehead deepening.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I can even leave my office door open if you're still nervous, McGee."

"No, no, I'm fine," he said, and gave her a smile that suggested that he was indeed warming up to the idea. "And I am pretty hungry. What time is it?"

"8 o'clock," Jenny answered, relieved that he seemed to loosening up. "I know a great little Chinese place just a few blocks away. They're fast and their crab rangoons are to die for."

McGee's smiled broadened at the thought. "Sounds great," he said, and watched as Jenny relaxed herself, surely glad to see that she wasn't going to have to try so hard from here on out.

"Let's go place our orders, then," she said, and McGee stood from his desk, motioning for her to go ahead of him, then following her as she turned back towards the stairs leading to her office, trying to keep his eyes focused on something other than the way her shapely legs moved in a skirt that seemed a bit inappropriate for office wear - but hey, he wasn't complaining.

They entered the outer office, where Jenny stopped to chat with Cynthia, offering to order something for her, as well.

"That sounds amazing, Director," Cynthia said, practically moaning over the thought of the food. "Thank you."

Jenny laughed. "The usual, then, Cynthia?"

Cynthia grinned. "You know it, Director."

Jenny returned her grin and stepped towards her office, while McGee furrowed his brow, his thoughts running wild about just how familiar the Director and her assistant were with each other. He was torn away from his thoughts by Jenny saying his name, and he turned to her.

"Considering what you want?" she asked him and he smiled sheepishly, embarrassed at being caught daydreaming.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose," he said, and changed his gaze to the picture adorning the reddish walls of Jenny's office, the classy artwork and the Naval references alike, and smiled to himself. From what he knew of the Director, it seemed very much like her.

"Well, McGee, I may be the Director of NCIS, but I'm afraid I haven't acquired the ability to read minds quite yet," Jenny said, causing him to snap out of his thoughts again and blush as he looked over at her, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry," he said. "Ah, I'll have the Moo Goo Gai Pan."

Jenny grinned, her eyes twinkling. "I've always wondered just what that meant," she said, picking up the phone to call the restaurant. "But sometimes, I think I'm better off not knowing."

McGee chuckled. "Yes, that is certainly true," he said, then fell back into a slightly uncomfortable state of silence as Jenny made their orders over the phone. Of course he was on edge. This was the Director. The most powerful person at NCIS. She outranked _Gibbs_, for Chrissakes. The fact that she was a woman only intensified the situation; he was already awkward around women, but add the fact that Jenny was his boss into the situation and he was nearly as stumbling as Palmer. Now _that _was bad.

"Thank you," Jenny said into the phone and hung up. McGee turned back to her, determined to not let her rank get to him.

"Uh, you order your own take-out?" he asked casually, then grimaced as he realized how presumptuous he sounded.

Jenny simply smiled at him. "I'm Director of NCIS, Tim, not the President."

"Ah, yeah, of course," he said, nodding. He scanned the room again, desperate for something to talk about, when Jenny saved him from his own demise.

"So, Agent McGee," she started, and he brought his eyes back to her, "do you like it here at NCIS?"

McGee gulped. Was she firing him? Transferring him off the team? Offering him a job as her own personal computer slave? No. That was ridiculous. "I love NCIS," he quickly said, so as to stop her from releasing him from his current position. "Especially working under Gibbs. Uh, the team, the team is great." He furrowed his brow as he spoke, trying to think of intelligent, but realistic, things to say, and in his concentration, completely missed the amused look Jenny was giving him. "I can, uh, I can do without Tony most of the time, but Gibbs is a great boss and um, Ziva is a wonderful asset, as well."

Jenny smiled fondly at the mention of her own personal addition to Gibbs' team. "I'm glad you're finding Ziva's presence a welcome one."

He met her eyes then, as if he just remembered she was in the room. "Definitely, ma'am. Uh, Director. She's . . . she's a very capable investigator."

Jenny's smile grew. The tips of McGee's ears were slowly reddening, suggesting he was embarrassed - perhaps flustered? - by the new subject. She had to play this right - Gibbs would have her six if she did anything to humiliate one of his team. She put on an innocent expression, bordering on shame-faced. "Oh. Where are my manners?" She walked to the shelf holding a few bottles of scotch on the other side of the room. "Would you like a drink?"

"Ah . . ." McGee hesitated. "I'd better not, ma'am. Director. I'm on duty."

"Of course," she said, though she poured a finger for herself. She remained silent as she did so, then picked the glass up and swirled the amber liquid around before bringing it up to her lips and turning her attention to McGee again, giving him a look that gave him permission to speak.

"So, um, what were we talking about?" he asked, hoping to divert the subject of conversation to something _other_ than Ziva.

"Ziva," Jenny responded with a smile. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I believe you were saying how much you enjoy her company."

The blush extended down to McGee's cheeks as he attempted to keep himself from saying anything embarrassing. "Yes. I, uh, I . . . She's very talented." He grimaced. "That didn't come out right. Not to say that Ziva _isn't _talented, but uh, you know, I don't . . . know . . ."

Jenny held a hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter, but found it was a futile attempt, and let out a chuckle as she said, "Alright, Agent McGee. I get the point." She paused and studied the worried look McGee was wearing. He was just so damn determined to impress her. A thought ran through her head and she chewed her lip for the briefest moment before opening her mouth. "You know, McGee," she walked past him and sat down on one of the dark leather couches, "I know Ziva pretty well." He turned to look at her, looking less concerned and more . . . curious. She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "She talks about you a lot."

This time when McGee blushed, it was out of humility. "Really?"

Jenny grinned at him. "Yes, really." She paused again, turning serious. "She respects you. She didn't have anyone when she came here . . ."

"Besides you," McGee interrupted, and blushed after doing so. "Sorry."

Jenny gave him a sad smile. "Don't be." She shrugged, and McGee found himself wandering towards the other end of the couch and cautiously sitting. "Being Director of a federal agency doesn't leave a lot of free time. And I know she puts on a front, acts like she's so hard and unaffected, but she really does appreciate your friendship."

McGee smiled softly and looked at his hands. He'd never really thought about it that much. Ziva was sweet to him and God knows he loved having her around, but he never realized that he was maybe her closest friend here.

Jenny's phone rang. She stood and walked to her desk, picking it up and saying after a moment, "Thanks, Cynthia." She hung up and walked to the door, taking the spicy smelling paper bags from Cynthia's hands and spinning to face McGee, her eyes bright and wide. "Dinner is served," she said.

"Ah, it smells great," McGee said, sniffing the air and nearly drooling at the food they were about to eat.

"That it does," Jenny agreed, and placed the bags on the table, delving out the food and drinks before turning to McGee again, her drink in her hand. "This has been nice, Tim."

He smiled back at her. "I agree, Director. Uh, I don't know if you really learned much more about me . . ."

Jenny smiled a knowing smile. "I think I learned what I needed to know." She held her bottle of soda up to him. "Cheers."

"Cheers." They clinked their bottles together, then dug into their food, enjoying a more companionable conversation as they did so. And while McGee hadn't revealed any deep, dark secrets about himself to Jenny, she had confirmed what mattered to her, and had no doubt in her mind that Gibbs had made a wise choice when he had added Timothy McGee to his team.

**THE END!**

_Hope you all enjoyed and comments are more than welcome!_


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